


where the eye cannot see

by carrieevew



Series: gazing at the holes in the sky [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Legal Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 17:10:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7114846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carrieevew/pseuds/carrieevew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Detective Blake and ADA Griffin do not like each other. They do, however, have to work together and on a case that means a lot to Clarke, which gives Bellamy an opportunity to actually get to know the woman he's known for the last two years.</p><p>a birthday prompt for Sarai. all the best, love!</p>
            </blockquote>





	where the eye cannot see

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wordyanansi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordyanansi/gifts).



> Happy Birthday, love! once again, i'm so, so sorry for the delay. i hope you've had the most amazing birthday. you have truly made my life a little better :-*  
> you wanted them in a professional environment, bickering, and slowly realising how awesome they are. i hope you like it :-)
> 
> A/N: the title is from [Tam, gdzie nie sięga wzrok](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lvPimo_6AQc) by Anna Maria Jopek with Pat Metheny & Friends; but i consider Henryk Mikołaj Górecki's [Symphony of Sorrowful Songs](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zq4Fe57XM9o) to be the actual soundtrack for this story. i had it on a constant repeat when i drove up and down for six hours and came up with the plot for it.

Detective Bellamy Blake stood in the middle of a crime scene, taking in his surroundings. There was a body of an 18-year-old kid lying in the kitchen and he felt some incredible anger, thinking about it. What could've that boy possibly done that got him stabbed to death?

He took a deep breath and looked around the living room. It was quite a mess—clothes draped all over the furniture, empty glasses everywhere, but it didn’t look like a robbery, though. More like what an apartment usually looked like when the resident was on their own for the very first time, Bellamy thought to himself with a smirk.

“Hey, Miller!” He called out to his partner. “Do you remember your first apartment?”

“Oh, yeah.” Miller answered with bit of a chuckle. “It was the size of a shoe box, I shared it with two other people and it swallowed practically every cent I made. I am scarred for life.”

“Exactly.” Bellamy said, creasing his eyebrows. “So, how do you think was _that kid_ , straight out of foster care and no visible source of income, able to afford a place like this? All that electronics here is probably worth more than my first car.”

Miller nodded in agreement, but before he could answer, someone else came into the apartment.

"Good morning, Detective Blake." A beautiful blonde stood by the door, looking at Bellamy with a tight smile.

"ADA Griffin, what are you doing here?" Bellamy looked at her sideways, irritated by her presence. "It's a little early for the prosecutor to arrive, isn't it? We're still waiting for the ME, we can't even be sure if it's a homicide, yet."

Clarke cocked her eyebrow and looked over into the kitchen, casting a glance at the body on the floor.

"And you think that it was—what? An accident? He just fell on that knife, kidney first, and that rolled over to land on his face?" She asked when she looked back at Bellamy and he clenched his teeth. He knew she was right and that there was no point arguing with her. She was an assistant district attorney, after all. He couldn't kick her out of a crime scene just because they didn't particularly like each other.

"Fine, okay," Bellamy grumbled. "Still doesn't explain what you're doing here, Clarke. We've been here half an hour, haven't even had the chance to call the DA's office."

"The dispatch logged the 911 caller as Charlotte Reese and she is a—I'm keeping an eye on her." Clarke fished a phone from the pocket of her perfectly tailored designer pants and scrolled through it for a moment. “The victim was John Mbege, yes?”

“It would appear so. That’s what your friend told the operator but there’s no ID on the body so we’re gonna need to track down his next of kin for official confirmation.” Bellamy said to her back and puffed a breath of air because he’d clearly lost her interest as she was already walking towards the kitchen.

“Well, you have one. That’s John, alright.” She called to him and then came back to the living room, her eyes still on the phone in front of her. “And he doesn’t have any next of kin, at least not one we were ever able to locate.”

Bellamy narrowed his eyes and looked over at Clarke, assessing. It seemed like she already knew more about this case than he did and was keeping that knowledge to herself. And if she came in this early on, she didn't trust him to do his job well enough to bring this one home. He felt his anger boiling in him slowly but surely. He was good at his job and he knew it. His colleagues and bosses knew it, too but apparently it wasn't good enough for _her_ , if she felt it was necessary for her to come over and watch his hands as he was doing his job...

Bellamy grit his teeth, vaguely wondering how much of his enamel this case would cost him. He'd never been particularly fond of lawyers and even knowing that the prosecutors were technically on "his" side now didn't change much. They were definitely against him back when Octavia was a troubled kid and they tried to take away his custody and shove her into foster care, believing that a bunch of _strangers_ could do better at keeping her on the straight and narrow.

Consciously, he knew that treating all lawyers as the devil wasn’t entirely fair but his relationship with Clarke Griffin up to date had done nothing to change his mind. They’d know each other for about two years now. They’d first met when she started working for the Brooklyn DA office they hadn’t exactly hit it off. She’d been as green as grass and very eager to prove herself, ignoring his experience and trying to do everything her own way. And Bellamy was—well, he’s mature enough _now_ to admit that he’d resented her from the very beginning for no other reason that the fact that she was a member of the high society, practically Manhattan royalty, if they ever had one. He’d known of her practically his whole adult life. She was the daughter of Congresswoman Abigail Griffin and her infamous husband, Jake, who died in prison over a decade ago, awaiting trial for insider trading. Clarke and her family had been appearing on every page of every local newspaper there was for as long as Bellamy took notice. She’d always had everything that Bellamy and his sister never even dreamt of having and when he’d finally met the Golden Girl of Upper East Side, he didn’t even try stopping himself from making snide comments, never giving her the benefit of the doubt.

And then it turned out that Clarke Griffin was a very close friend of Octavia’s boyfriend. Lincoln only ever told him that they’d met when she was still in college and refused to go into any details and that always rubbed Bellamy the wrong way. He knew that Clarke had a bit of a temper, remembered the article he read about her allegedly attacking an FBI agent when her father was arrested but no charges were ever brought up. So what could’ve possibly happened back then that, judging by how hard they were hiding it, was worse than assaulting a federal agent?

Not that she was more forthcoming about anything else regarding her life. She always stayed on the side-lines of any quasi-family gathering that his sister organised for their friends. Always present and polite but never really—there. She was seeing Lincoln regularly but never sought any one of them, only getting close to Octavia. She never even bothered to get to know the rest of them – not Bellamy, or Gina, Bryan and Miller, she always kept to herself.

No, Bellamy Blake didn't like Clarke Griffin and he didn’t like working with her but he hated being bypassed and kept in the dark even more.

"All right, Princess," Bellamy started and Clarke scowled and him, hearing the nickname. He ignored her, though, and continued. "Clearly, you know something I don't and this is the moment when you share with the class. Whether you like it or not, I'm the primary investigator here and you can't keep shit from me, if it's relevant to the case."

"I know that, Detective." Clarke said, her brow furrowed. "I'm not trying to keep anything away from you, I just needed to see what's going on. If there even was anything to say." She explained and yeah, Bellamy had to admit that there might've been a point somewhere.

"And what do you think is going on, then? Why is the DA office jumping on this murder?"

"The office isn't." She said, looking him straight in the eye and Bellamy felt her gaze burning a small hole in his head. "I am."

Bellamy raised his eyebrows, urging her to continue and Clarke let out a sigh.

"Those kids – John and Charlotte, they were both residents of the Ark." Clarke revealed and Bellamy rolled his eyes.

"Of course they were."

The Ark was a fancy program for juvenile delinquents run by Wells Jaha, under the auspices of his father, the Mayor. They would pluck out the underage first-time offenders of none-violent crimes and try to straighten them up by filling their time with community service or extra-curricular activities instead of smudging their records. It all sounded like a noble idea but Thelonious Jaha's involvement always made everything a little bit questionable.

“So basically, what you’re telling me is that if John Mbege or his friends were involved in anything illegal, I won’t be able to find out what it was because they’re all part of your social experiment?” Bellamy asked and he saw some fury flaming in her eyes.

“You know just as well as I do that if they’d done anything serious, they wouldn’t be considered eligible for the project.” Clarke said in a controlled voice, her nostrils flaring a bit. She was clearly stopping herself from yelling at him and a very childish part of Bellamy was a little proud that he managed to get a rise out of her. She always seemed calm in a way that had to mean she was constantly keeping herself in check. “John had been caught with a couple of joints when he was 16, stayed with the Ark for six months and we never heard from him again. Which is a good thing, wouldn’t you say?”

“Or he got more clever and learnt how to not get busted,” Bellamy argued. “Unless he’d grown it himself, he had to get that pot from somewhere. There could be an angry dealer somewhere.”

“Do you not believe that the system you’re a part of is working, Detective?” Clarke asked, resting her hands on her hips, gearing up for a fight and Bellamy was about to open his mouth with an argument but before he could, Miller came out of the kitchen and looked between them.

“Back to your corners, ladies and gentlemen, this is not the time for this.” He interrupted, sounding _very_ unimpressed by their banter. “The ME and the crime scene techs are here, if anyone’s interested. So, how about we learn something more about what happened here _before_ we start biting each other’s heads off?”

Bellamy and Clarke both scowled at Miller and then back at each other and Bellamy could practically hear Miller rolling his eyes at them, like they were a couple of misbehaving pre-schoolers which, in all honesty, Bellamy had to admit, wasn’t entirely untrue. He didn’t spend much time with Clarke but they almost always ended up bickering about something, mostly out of principal, it would seem.

They did move out of the way in unison, however, because despite their animosity, they actually did work quite well together. They had an impressive conviction record, their case held up nicely in court, they rarely lost appeals and the attorneys hated them, which had always given Bellamy a strange sort of pride.

Clarke stayed longer than she’d ever had before, long after the body was gone, until the very last of the techs had wrapped up their gear and left. Her eyes followed every move they made, noting everything they’d found, clogs working almost visibly in her head. Bellamy cast a glance at her every now and then, getting more and more curious. It looked like this case was somehow personal to her but what connection could she have to a couple of kids 10 years her junior?

She hung back when they sealed off the apartment and walked out on the street with them. Her freakishly clean white Mercedes stood out amongst the slightly beat up nondescript Ford and Chevrolet sedans. She looked over at Bellamy, thinking something through. Miller had already gotten into their squad car when she asked:

“I’m going over to the Ark, to tell Wells what happened. Would you like to come with me?”

“You said they hadn’t seen him in two years, what makes you think that there’s any point in going there?”

“Honestly, I don’t really care about that right now.” She told him, fishing her keys out of her bag and opening the car. “Wells deserves to know what happened and to find out from us. And besides, they have a couple of long-term residents there, maybe they kept in touch with him and could actually give us something to go on. So, you coming?”

Bellamy nodded in agreement. They didn’t have any better option right now, not until the techs analysed the trace evidence and the ME finished the autopsy. The Ark was as good a place as any to start. He waved Miller off and noticed Clarke watching him expectantly and he said “are we taking your car, then? Are you worried that my car won’t look quite as well on the driveway in front of the castle?”

Clarke shot him an unimpressed look. “Yes, obviously. The draw-bridge will fall to pieces underneath us if it senses a car like yours, never mind that it’s NYPD property,” she deadpanned and Bellamy snorted. “Could you, just this once, do as I ask and get inside?”

“Well, you haven’t actually asked.” He grumbled, fully aware that it made him sound like a petulant child.

Clearly, Clarke thought so too, because she just rolled her eyes at him and gestured towards the passenger’s side. “Please?”

 

***

 

The Ark was located outside of city’s limits, in an enormous estate that belonged to the Jahas and had been converted into a centre for troubled kids about five years ago, after Wells Jaha graduated from college with a degree in psychology. Hardly anyone could believe that the justice system decided to entrust the future of those delinquents into the hands of someone who was still basically a kid himself. He was, however, smart enough to hire actual adults who had experience with this sort of thing. Having a father who was the Mayor and advocated the project wholeheartedly didn’t hurt either.

Bellamy had always felt a little conflicted about this whole idea, no matter how noble it seemed. He couldn’t not feel like they were rewarding the kids for bad behaviour. The ones without families would sometimes end up living there until they turned eighteen and couldn’t officially stay with the program any longer. And who wouldn’t want to stay in what was basically a luxurious resort, all on the state budget?

And still, it all pointed out to the program actually working. The kids often ended up finding something that would distract them from their potentially blooming life of crime, or at least take up all of their free time. Only a few of their residents ever ended up not re-socialised, which was an incredible achievement, really. Bellamy sometimes wondered, how would’ve their life looked like if there was an Ark back when Octavia was acting out.

At first, Clarke drove them in silence, eyes trained on the road in front of her. For a moment, Bellamy was a bit worried that it would get awkward. They’d never spent that much time alone. Every other case they worked together, there was always someone with them, somewhere. Mostly, it was Miller, sometimes someone from the crime lab. And then during those rare moments when she turned up to one of their family meetings, there was always a crowd around them. He expected awkwardness or even hostility but none of that happened. It was strangely comfortable and Bellamy glanced over at her to see if the feeling was mutual.

Clarke seemed to be thinking about something, her forehead creased. Bellamy wanted to ask her more about the case. She had some vested interest in it and he wished she shared it with him. But he thought that he knew her well enough to wait. She would tell him at some point, if she wanted to, and pushing her would be counterproductive.

She stayed silent until they were met with heavier traffic and someone cut in front of her. Clarke yelled out a string of profanities and Bellamy let out a surprised chuckle. That was not quite what he expected from the usually composed Princess. She sent him a dirty look in response.

“What?” she asked, a small smile dancing at her lip until the car in front of her slowed down for no good reason and she moaned an _oh, fuck you_ , waving her hand angrily in the other driver’s general direction.

“Nothin’.” Bellamy smiled back at her. “I just never pegged you for road rage.”

“It’s not road rage if I’m still inside my car and he’s not picking his teeth off of the floor.” Clarke told him with mock irritation and all of a sudden, the mood in the car shifted. It was comfortable before but now, it was—playful? Were they really _joking_ together?

“All right, Rocky. You probably shouldn’t advertise your criminal tendencies to an officer of the law, Ms. Assistant District Attorney.” Bellamy shot back at her with a smile and Clarke snorted. Oh yeah, they were joking together.

After that, they filled some of the silence with a bit of conversation and an occasional epithet Clarke exclaimed towards some drivers; some very colourful epithets. Clarke asked him about Octavia and, even though he was sure she’d already heard it all from Lincoln, but he still appreciated the effort, so he told her about some of the new self-defence classes O’d started teaching.

Clarke looked back at him after he went silent again and Bellamy saw in her eyes that there was a decision being made. Clarke took a deeper breath before turning her eyes back in the road.

“I know that you’re not a fan of the Ark program. I don’t think any cop is.” Clarke said without looking at him.

“Yeah, well, not everyone can be saved.”

“Sure,” she agreed with a nod. “But not everyone needs to be punished, either. Most of those kids just need someone to take interest in them, give them an opportunity to find another way.”

“You sound like a pamphlet, you know that, right?”

“And yet, I’m still right. We have some great kids there who just need a little guidance, not a juvenile record.”

“This is important to you, isn’t it? This program?” Bellamy looked at her profile and Clarke glanced back, their eyes locking for a moment.

“Yes, it is.” She confirmed slowly. “Wells’ mother died when he was 10 and she left him a _ridiculous_ amount of money. Thelonious, his businesses earned him a lot but Wells’ mum came from old money and she gave it all to her son. He’d known about it his entire childhood and when we’ve grown up, he really wanted to do something good with all that money, not to let it go to waste.”

Bellamy wasn’t sure where she was going with it but he really wanted to find out, so he kept his mouth shut and let her talk.

“We’ve both been quite sheltered, out whole lives. Our parents always made sure that no bad thing ever happened to us. But then my dad was arrested.” Clarke’s voice faltered at that last sentence and suddenly Bellamy saw her at seventeen—scared and confused, her world coming crashing down.

“I lost it, when the agents came, and I nearly got arrested. I was almost eighteen, they could’ve charged me and tried me as an adult. I’m pretty sure that my mother called in every favour she had to get me off the hook but I didn’t even appreciate it at the time. My dad had gone to prison, I really didn’t care what an assault charge could do to my future.” Clarke took a deep breath before continuing. “Then, I was in college and I made some more mistakes. I was still incredibly luckily since no-one ever found out about that. Luckily, that’s when I met Lincoln. We were both laying in the ER of the Yale-New Haven Hospital, each hooked up to an IV. He nearly OD’ed and I had drunk myself to unconsciousness again.”

Clarke went silent for a long moment, undoubtedly remembering whatever happened back then, which gave Bellamy an opportunity to absorb what he’d just heard. Obviously, he’d already known about Lincoln’s past drug problem. O’s boyfriend was an incredibly decent man and he came clean to Bellamy fairly quickly, saying that he’d rather share the story himself than have Bellamy do some sort of background check and find out from police reports. Bellamy wasn’t happy that Lincoln had a record but the man claimed that he’d been sober for years and was committed to his sobriety; and Bellamy believed him. However, he’d never known that Clarke was a part of that story, too.

“Honestly, I don’t remember much from that night.” Clarke’s voice brought him back from his own thoughts. “The one thing that stuck, though, was when we decided that enough’s enough. Somewhere around 5 am we decided that whatever happened to us, everyone who’s ever hurt us, they weren’t worth wasting our lives like that. I’m still genuinely surprised that it actually worked, you know? We were still quite un-sober then but it worked. We decided to change our lives and we did.”

Clarke was still not looking at him when she said all that and she clearly didn’t expect any response. Bellamy was a little stunned, hearing all that. All he knew about her from before he met her came from newspaper articles and none of that mentioned anything beyond her father’s arrest and death. He was sure that his sister knew about all of it, though, and suddenly Bellamy felt very proud of her and how loyal she was to her friend, never saying a word to anyone, not even him.

And apparently, Clarke wasn’t done yet.

“I think Wells built the Ark for me, indirectly. I was on my way to developing a serious problem when I decided to stop drinking altogether and it was really difficult, trying to deal with my problems instead of drowning them. I used to talk to Wells about that, how I needed to find something that will help me deal with shit. And he listened.

“At least I knew that no matter what, I still had my mother left. Her love and support, even her bloody money, I always had all that at the back of my mind. I knew she’d help me if I needed her. But the kids that come to the Ark, none of them have that. They don’t have an alternative and no-one even cares enough to give them one. And giving that to them, it’s—yes, it is very important to me.”

Clarke had finished her story and Bellamy remained speechless. He’d never expected her to open up to him, especially not like that. Not when it meant sharing the worst moments of her life with him. He wasn’t sure if she wanted him to say something to that, if she wanted any reaction but he needed to say something.

“So, you did punch that agent after all, huh?” he asked in a deliberately light voice and Clarke looked at him, shooting him an incredulous look, like she couldn’t quite believe that in all that she said, _this_ was what caught his attention. She let out a tiny bubble of laughter.

“Actually, I nearly scratched his eyes out.” She told him and they both laughed.

“Thank you for telling me that, Clarke.” Bellamy said and she nodded lightly.

“I, um, I think I trust you.” She said easily, taking his breath away.

 

***

 

Wells Jaha turned out to be exactly nothing like Bellamy expected. But then, to be honest, he wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting from the guy, realistically. He had some sort of an image of the Mayor’s son crafted in his head but then he’d spent the last hour listening to Clarke Griffin of all people telling him some incredibly intimate details from her life, shattering such a big chunk of his opinion about her that he was left terribly confused. Mostly because he’d never expected her to tell him any of that and he couldn’t quite understand why she’d done it. They weren’t even friendly towards each other and yet here he was, all of a sudden wanting to know so much more about who that woman really was.

And here was his chance to learn more, watching her with her oldest friend, who hugged her tightly as they came in and then gave Bellamy a firm handshake, smiling at him openly until they’d told him why they came. Wells’ face fell as he heard about the death of one of his old wards and he smiled sadly at Clarke, who’d taken his hand and given it a squeeze.

“I wish I could help you with something but I haven’t seen John since he left this place, a year ago? No, probably more, right?” He looked over at Bellamy, who confirmed it with a nod. “I suppose he could’ve kept in touch with some of the other kids but I can’t be sure. And you can’t talk to them now, not without their parents present.”

“What about you?” Clarke asked him. “Could you talk to them?”

“I can certainly try but do you really think they’ll actually tell me anything?” Wells cocked his head to the side and smirked at his friend, which caused Clarke to sigh and agree with him.

“We’re gonna have to do it some other way.”

 

***

 

Within the next few days they had the autopsy results and the crime lab was sending over their findings systematically, undoubtedly thoroughly encouraged by Clarke. They learnt that John Mbege was stabbed in the stomach first before falling down and then his killer delivered the deadly strike to his left kidney. There were no signs of forced entry and the mess inside the apartment was in fact just a result of a kid living there without supervision. All of which suggested that he’d known his killer, therefore Bellamy and Miller set on interrogating every friend of his they could find. Unsurprisingly, all of them claimed they didn’t know anything and Clarke, who was present for most of those interrogations, was getting visibly frustrated.

“You know, this may not have anything to do with the Ark.” Bellamy said to her after they finished questioning John’s old girlfriend. “He may not have kept in touch with anyone there.”

“Yeah, I know.” She replied with a sigh and looked over at him. “I really hope that you’re right but I have this feeling I can’t explain. Maybe I’d never think that if it wasn’t for Charlotte. She’s his age but she was there for two years till she turned 18 last month. For all we know, they had nothing in common and yet there she was, in his apartment. And she says she knows him _from around_. The Ark is the only real connection I can find between them.”

“So, now what?” Bellamy asked. “Wells is right, we can’t talk to his current wards without their parents or legal representation and even if we could, they won’t tell us anything even remotely incriminating. They’re already on our radars, there’s no way they’ll tell _us_ the truth.”

Clarke nodded and bit her lip, thinking it over. She stayed quiet for a while before getting up from her chair and heading for the door.

“Come on, I might have an idea.”

 

***

 

They’d taken her car again and Clarke drove them to a bar in Queens. There was a sign on the door saying _We’re closed, get lost_ but Clarke opened the door anyway and gestured at him to follow her in.

“Murphy!” she called out and grinned and the man who came out from the back room.

“Can you not read?” The man—Murphy, apparently, answered with a combination of annoyance and fondness in his voice. “We’re closed and we’re busy.”

“And I have a favour to ask.” Clarke came up closer to him and rested her elbows at the bar.

“Uh huh,” Murphy huffed. “You know, when I said I owed you one, it was more like an expression, not an invitation to ask me for things. Especially if you’re bringing cops with you.” The man gestured towards Bellamy and he took a few steps forwards, getting closer to Clarke.”

“John Murphy, that’s Detective Bellamy Blake and he’s alright.” Clarke introduced them to each other and Bellamy felt a tiny small tugging at his lips upon hearing that vaguely positive opinion of him. He moved from his spot by the door when Clarke gestured at him to come closer.

“I’m sure he is,” Murphy told her with a smirk. “Fine, what do you want?”

“One of the old Arkers is dead. John Mbege, did you know him?”

“Shit.” Murphy’s smile fell and he rubbed his face. “Yeah, I knew him. He was there for a—some minor drug charge, I think? Seemed rather harmless. What happened to him?”

“He was murdered.” Bellamy spoke for the first time. “Do you know if he had any problems with anyone?”

“No, I haven’t seen the kid in like a year or something,” Murphy said and turned back to Clarke. “What do you need from me?”

“I was hoping you could talk to the Arkers. We can’t do that without involving a small army of people who would only stand in the way and even if we could, I doubt they’d want to tell us anything.”

“Yeah, whatever it was that got John killed probably wasn’t about stealing some cooking from girl scouts.” Murphy agreed with her and Clarke smiled at the man. “I’ll see what I can do, Clarke.”

“Thank you.” Clarke put a hand on Murphy’s arm and gave him a grateful squeeze.

“Okay, I’ll call you when I learn something. Now take your surprisingly quiet cop with you and go back to work, before you soil the shady reputation of this establishment.” Murphy shooed them out and Clarke let out the brightest laughter Bellamy had ever heard from her.

 

***

 

Over the next week, the investigation had lost a great deal of its momentum. Bellamy and Miller had run out of people they could talk to. They tried figuring out where he was getting his money but for all intents and purposes, it seemed as the just magically appearing in his hands in the form of already purchased goods. At some point, they found out that he was picking up random shifts, waiting tables at a nearby restaurant but the money he was making there wouldn’t even cover the electric bill for running all that shit they found in his apartment. None of it was stolen though, which at least would’ve explained something. Instead, it appeared to have been paid for in cash which left them with bupkus.

Still, Clarke would call him every day, asking for updates and he hated the disappointment he heard in her voice every time he’d told her that they were slowly running out of ideas. Every day the trail was getting colder and Bellamy knew that if they didn’t find anything soon, they’d have to move on to other cases. But he also knew that because of the connection to the Ark, this case meant a lot to Clarke and Bellamy was finding himself desperately wanting to help her solve it. He had no idea when or how things started to change between them. He was caught off guard upon realising that he no longer dreaded the perspective of leading an interrogation with her. They were making each other laugh now instead of growl and for reasons he couldn’t quite name, the change made Bellamy pretty happy.

He was trying to figure out some other angle they could approach when Clarke called him, saying that Murphy had found out something and he wanted them to come to his bar.

“I’m sure he’s very eager to see me again, I could feel a deep bond forming the last time we saw each other.” Bellamy deadpanned and Clarke fucking _giggled_.

They agreed that she’d come by the precinct to pick him up and half an hour later, Bellamy was getting comfortable in the passenger seat of her Mercedes.

“You know, I think I could get used to this chauffeuring. You think you could make a coffee run in the morning and come pick me up, so I can sleep till I get to the precinct?” Bellamy joked and looked over to her. Her eyes were focused on the road but she was smiling and Bellamy felt some pleasant warmth pooling in his stomach.

“Why do you always insist on driving everywhere yourself, anyway?” he asked and Clarke sneaked a quick glance at him.

“I just—I like driving, it relaxes me.”

“Yeah, you’re clearly very relaxed, every time you flip some other driver off.” Clarke chuckled hearing his words.

“You’d be surprised.” Bellamy noticed that her hands tightened on the steering wheel a bit. “When I was 18, my mother was driving us down this icy road and we skidded off. Nothing really happened, we just ended on the side of the road with a flat tire and a couple of bruises but for those few seconds, I felt so utterly powerless and it scared me. So now, I drive everywhere myself because I like being in control. This is almost two tons of metal and it’s completely dependable on me. I like that feeling.”

Bellamy nodded, realising he’d just uncovered another layer of Clarke Griffin. He’d always known that she was a control freak but this little piece of information helped put knowing that slightly more into focus, which was great. Even more fantastically, this was another thing that she’d volunteered and Bellamy decided to reciprocate.

“Yeah, I think I get that. My mother died in a car crash, when I was 22. Octavia had already passed her driver’s test by then but I refused to let her drive anywhere for a year. I wanted to be the one to take her everywhere, even in she was coming back home from somewhere at 2 am, I would come and pick her up.” Bellamy sighed and then smiled at the memory of his sister at 17, utterly unimpressed that her brother insisted on hauling her around town like a cab driver. “She’d get pissed because I was never quite able to explain that to her, why I needed to do that.

“And then one day after she turned eighteen, she grabbed the car keys, told me that she is an adult, I’m no longer her guardian and I can’t stop her. Sticking her tongue at me kinda diminished her point but she was right.” Bellamy said with a chuckle. “But the funny thing is, after that, she’d still ask me to drive her places and pick her up in the middle of the night. And I practically always said yes. I felt much better when she was sitting to my right.”

They were standing still in front of a red light, so Clarke folded her hands in her lap, sending him over a bright smile. They sat there smiling at each other for a minute, until the lights turned green and Clarke let out a string of curses because the car in front of them wasn’t getting out of the way quickly enough. He heard the very colourful image of medieval torture she wanted to rain down on the driver and laughed earnestly.

 

***

 

Murphy, as it turned out, actually did learn something useful. It wasn’t much but it gave them both hope that the case wasn’t as cold as they thought.

“Something is definitely going on down there. Something that they are trying very hard to hide. Not only from Wells, but—well, really, everyone.”

“Okay, who’s they?”

“The Arkers—the kids. They are never exactly forthcoming but this is about something more than just being called a rat. I’m gonna go back there next week, talk to them again, maybe some of them will crack.”

“Okay,” Bellamy asked warily. “And what it is that you do over there that has brought you so much of those kids’ trust?”

“I put the fear of God in them and then scare them back onto the path of righteousness.” Murphy responded in a flat voice and Clarke snorted so hard that she nearly choked on the coke she was drinking.

“Murphy—knows people.” Clarke said once she recovered and Bellamy felt like she was trying to be very diplomatic about her friend’s apparent criminal connections. “He helps Wells with finding out how the kids’ home life really looks like. If they need to be relocated or if they’re being pressured into breaking any laws.”

“Jaha wants them to go back to a healthy and safe environment. Like that sort of a thing even exists.” Murphy added with a scowl but there was a hint of respect in his voice, too. It seemed Wells Jaha had the ability to convince even the most resistant to see things his way and could probably conquer the world if he ever followed in his father’s footsteps.

“All right,” Murphy turned to Bellamy, “you gotta order something now, so it doesn’t seems like I’m _entertaining_ law enforcement.” He’d brought Clarke a glass of coke with him and she was almost done with it, so she asked him for a dinner, Bellamy ordered a beer and Murphy left them alone.

“They know you here quite well, don’t they?” Bellamy asked Clarke.

“Yeah, Murphy and I go way back, he’s a good friend.” Clarke confirmed with a smile and Bellamy wanted to ask her more but he wasn’t sure if it was his place now. Neither of them mentioned her unexpected confession on their way to the Ark but there was no denying that the dynamics between them had shifted. But were they already at the place where he could ask for more intimate and probably painful details from her life?

He didn’t really have to wonder for much longer because Clarke took a breath, looked him in the eye and decided to tell him herself.

“I met John in some shitty bar back when I was a freshman in college. He was a sarcastic asshole and I was exploiting the fact that no-one knew me because no-one in Connecticut cares about the daughter of a New York congresswoman. We’d drink together and aggressively not talk about anything shitty that happened to us. But he’d always had better control over it than I and after I broke up with my boyfriend, Murphy got the chance to ride shotgun on my descend into darkness.” Clarke looked over at the bar where Murphy was serving someone and smile sadly.

“He didn’t really care at first, I wasn’t the first girl he’d known that had gone wild but then shit got more serious. I started developing a problem and he started keeping an eye on me.” Clarke gulped and Bellamy felt the urge to comfort her but didn’t want to scare her off so he kept quiet. “He was the one who drove me to the hospital that night when I met Lincoln. He had to scrape me off of the floor before but this time I was so out of it that he got really scared.

“He kept his distance after that. I was so wrapped up in my own and Lincoln’s recovery that I haven’t even notice when he moved away somewhere. And then I moved back to New York and lo and behold, there he was, a witness in one of my first cases. We decided that if the universe decided to put us back together, we wouldn’t resist.” Clarke finished her story with a small smile.

“Is that why you don’t hang out with us, when we go to the bar?” Bellamy couldn’t help himself. It bothered him still, that she never even seemed to try to bond with them. But what if that was the reason? What if she was just really uncomfortable, sitting in a bar, surrounded by drunk people, while she stayed sober? “Is that hard for you?”

“No, it’s not.” Clarke answered shortly, sitting a little straighter, and she cleared her throat. His face fell and she must’ve noticed that because she shifted in her seat, sliding a little closer to him, and added “I’m just not really good with new people. Especially not big, tight groups of new people.

“You guys are a family. You share so much history and I always feel like and outsider, when I’m with you. I only have that kind of happy history with Wells and I’m really not comfortable, when people want me to tell them about myself. I know it makes me look aloof, probably even frigid, but that’s how I am.”

“But you’re telling _me_ all of that,” Bellamy pointed out before he could bite his tongue.

“You’re not asking.” She explained. “Even if you want to, you’re letting me come to you with this. And you’re not judging. Or at least you’re not making it seem like you are.”

“I’m not.” He assured. “We both have our own shitstorms that we have to deal with. I’m in no position to judge.” He told her and it surprised him a little, how much he meant it. Ever since he’d met her, all he did was judge her. Only now, he was realising that it wasn’t really _her_ that he was judging. The image of her that he had in his head was just that – an image. It wasn’t until lately, when they were working so much closer than ever before, that he was finally given the chance to find out who Clarke really was. And he liked that person. She was sarcastic, smart, with a sharp mind. She wasn’t afraid to fight for what she thought was right and she didn’t give up. “Thank you for telling me.” He added after a moment and Clarke nodded at him, a small smile on her lips.

She was also unbelievably beautiful but that was neither here, not there. And it’s not like he hasn’t noticed that before.

 

***

 

Dinners at Murphy’s became a semi-regular thing for them, over the next several weeks. They started coming in over the pretence of wanting to find out if he’d learnt anything else about John Mbege’s murder but it change fairly quickly. They still asked him about the case every time they came and he kept telling them that there was nothing new.

And then, they’d order some food, sit down in a booth and talk. They talked about their families, their homes, their lives before they met. It had given them the opportunity to clear the air on many misrepresentations that come from knowing _about_ someone and never bothering to check their facts.

They’d discuss their other cases, asking for a different perspective or just to reassure themselves that they were going in the right direction. Bellamy learnt that while he was good with puzzles, like figuring out someone’s motive, she was better with the big picture. She was also an invaluable source of scientific knowledge, something she picked up from watching both of her parents work in their respective fields.

She was still stubborn as fuck and she still argued him on _everything_ they disagreed on but there was no longer any hostility in their bickering and Bellamy found himself really enjoying a good sparring partner.

Bellamy learnt that she was, in fact, much more open in a one-on-one setting. She kept telling him things about herself, sometimes more significant, sometimes less, and he appreciated every new titbit of information she offered. And he gave back every inch. He knew that Octavia had already told Clarke all the gory details of their lives. His sister wore her experience as a badge of honour. A testament of everything they managed to overcome. And not just survive, but actually come on top of. It took her a long time to come to that state of mind but now that she did, she talked about it with pride in her voice. She was proud of herself and Bellamy, proud of the family they were able to build.

It was more difficult for Bellamy to talk about what they’d been through but with Clarke, he felt his stories flowing right out of him. For everything she told him about Wells, he told her something about Octavia. She told him about her college boyfriend who turned out to be two-timing her and his girlfriend and her on-again-off-again law school girlfriend who left her out of the blue with barely a ‘good-bye’ and no explanation, while Bellamy revealed that he slept his way through almost all the girl in his high school because he was feeling insecure and figured it was easier to act like an asshole than try getting his emotions involved.

With Clarke, it felt good to share, so for the first time in his life, Bellamy told someone how scared he was when his mother died, Octavia started acting out and he was faced with the possibility of losing her, when Child Protective Service tried to take away his custody.

They shared painful memories and funny anecdotes, and Bellamy sometimes wondered how that ever happened. He started to think about Clarke as a friends and he was utterly astonished because he never even notice the change, it just happened so… _organically_.

Even Murphy warmed up to him a little. Or at least that what he thought until the man sat down in front of him, in the seat that Clarke vacated for the moment and sent Bellamy a cold glare.

“She trusts you,” Murphy said without preamble. “And she doesn’t trust that many people, so don’t fuck it up.”

He was gone as quickly as he appeared and Bellamy stared at his retreating back, slightly confused, until Clarke came back and flopped down into her seat. Was he just given the shovel talk?

 

***

 

Bellamy was in the middle of a dinner with his sister, when he noticed that Octavia was looking at him with a calculating glint in her eye.

“A little birdie told me that you’ve been hanging out with Clarke lately.” She finally said when he came back from the kitchen with a beer.

“I doubt that birdie could ever possibly be called ‘little’, O.” He smirked at her and Octavia sent him an exaggerated eye roll.

“Not the point, Bell.” She said with a scowl. “You just never told me that you two were spending time together.”

“I didn’t think I needed to tell about everyone I spend my time with.” He replied and winced at how defensive it came out. But his sister noticed anyway because she looked up and down at him and cocked her eyebrow, as a huge grin appeared on her face.

“Oh, my, you like her!”

“Yeah, she’s all right.” Bellamy rubbed his neck.

“No, no, big brother, you _like_ her like her!” Octavia cooed and followed him to the living room as he waved her off.

“What, are you thirteen again, O?” he groaned, sitting down on the couch. She plopped down next to Bellamy and sent him an unimpressed look.

“Please, you didn’t like girls back when I was thirteen. You screwed around with them, there’s a difference.” O reminded him, stealing the beer bottle from his hand and taking a gulp. “And hey, I’m not complaining here. Clarke’s pretty cool and she must like you too, if she hasn’t strangled you to death after all that time she’d spent with you lately.”

Bellamy didn’t answer her and Octavia clearly took his silence as an agreement because she was now sending him a knowing look, like she wanted to say that she’d seen it coming from a mile away.

And the thing was, he couldn’t exactly disagree with her because he’d known Octavia would smell bullshit. Because he actually did _like_ Clarke. She was not easy to get to know but definitely worth the effort. And she would sometime give him that look, the one that made him think that she was wondering if Bellamy had noticed that she flirted with him a little.

Well, he did. He noticed that she often laughed at his stupid jokes and she sounded like she was surprised she found them funny. He noticed that her gaze would sometimes linger on his face or she’d check him out not-so-discreetly. But he also noticed that she never took it any further and Bellamy didn’t either. Once or twice, he entertained the thought of how it could be, actually _being with her_ but that was it. Thinking about it was all that he dared to do because as nice as that fantasy was, he wasn’t ready to risk their current relationship to pursue it. Not at the risk at losing the unexpected friendship they managed to build in such a short time.

“Yeah, well, she’s just a good friend.” Bellamy finally told Octavia, a little weakly, and she looked at him with a hint of sympathy. Yeah, he didn’t really believe that either.

 

***

 

Nearly three months after their first conversation, Murphy’s contacts had finally come through. He called Bellamy and Clarke up to his bar, claiming that whatever it was he had to tell them needed to be discussed in person.

“You need to talk to your witness again.” Murphy told them as they sat down in a corner booth, removed from the prying eye of other patrons.

“You mean Charlotte?” Clarke asked, a little confused. “Why?”

“Did you notice how she disappeared shortly after Mbege’s death? Well, she did. None of the kids put the two and two together because they just thought she wanted to test her freedom after turning eighteen but it turns out that it was also two days after _Dax_ came by the Ark, looking for her.”

“Shit.” Clarke said and turned to sift through her bag. She pulled out her tabled and started scrolling through it. She found the thing she was looking for and handed the tablet to Bellamy. There was a file on it, of a 23-year-old Dax Lucas. Bellamy looked over his rap sheet and at the bottom of the file he noticed a note saying ‘January – April 2011: Ark Juvenile Centre’. He lifted his gaze up from the tablet and noticed that Clarke deflated.

“Dax is one of those cases that we failed at,” she said with regret. “He was one of the first kids that Wells took in and after he’d left, he ended up being a benchmark for how we, as a system, would judge the kids’ viability for the program. They didn’t do a proper background check on him, only focused on the fact that he didn’t have a record yet, not knowing that it was only because his name never entered the system before. He must’ve known _someone_ because he was sent to Wells after getting arrested for assault. And that’s not a non-violent offence.” Clarke sighed before continuing. “After he turned eighteen, he only stayed quiet for a few months, before he was busted for assault _again_. Five years of bringing him in for questioning later and we never managed to get anything to stick. And we have no idea who is watching his back or why.” She rested her head against the back of the booth, closing her eyes for a moment.

“And you like him for this one?” Bellamy asked her but before she had the chance to answer, Murphy cut in.

“Clearly, Charlotte does because she bolted as soon as she heard that he was looking for her. Granted, he’s generally someone you wouldn’t want to hang out with but this is a little much, don’t you think?”

Clarke nodded, looking tired. Bellamy was sure she was glad there was some progress in their case but finding out there was something nefarious going on around the Ark couldn’t have been easy. It was her best friend’s whole life and it was now cracked, the damage reaching deeper and deeper. He tried sending her a reassuring smile and was glad when she returned it, the corner of her lips going up ever so slightly.

“Do you know where we can find her?” He asked Murphy and the other man nodded.

“Apparently, she came back home a couple of days ago. What for, I can’t imagine but she seems like the person to talk to. Otherwise, why would she run in the first place?” Murphy wondered and Bellamy had to agree.

 

***

 

Charlotte’s apartment was located in Jackson Heights and as they drove there the next day, Clarke told Bellamy that Charlotte was placed in the Ark when she was 16, after she snapped and attacked a bully that was going after her from the moment she came to their school. The DA’s office wasn’t keen on punishing her but the kid’s parents threatened to press charges if they didn’t do anything. The Ark seemed like a good choice, especially since she’s been bouncing between foster families for years. She stayed with Wells until she became an adult, barely a couple of weeks before John Mbege died. Charlotte was the first kid that Clarke sent to Wells and she was very proud when she saw how well the girl was doing there.

They parked in front of Charlotte’s apartment building and Bellamy noticed that Clarke took a deep, if a little shaky breath before she turned the engine off. Bellamy wanted to reach over and take her hand, giving her some sort of comfort but her hands were still gripping the steering wheel tightly and he didn’t want to startle her so he settled for just being there. A steady presence if she needed someone to lean on.

Charlotte Reese was a scared-looking very young girl and he was fairly amazed that she even opened the door for them, much less invited them in. She stood in the middle of her tiny living room-slash-bedroom, tugging at the hem of her shirt, and Clarke came a little closer to her, slowly, like she were approaching a wounded animal.

“Do you know what happened to John, Charlotte?” Clarke asked her and the girl nodded.

“He was murdered.” She said barely louder than a whisper.

“Do you know who killed him?”

“I think so. I went to visit him that day and I passed someone in the hallway. He practically ran out of there and he looked really angry. And then I found John, and he was dead.”

“Do you know that man you saw?” Clarke asked. “Was it Dax?” Clarke prodded and Charlotte swallowed visibly.

“I’m not sure. I don’t know him all that well but he’s kinda hard to forget.” Charlotte shrugged ever so slightly.

“Do you know why would he want John dead?”

“He was doing things for some people.”

“What? What are you talking about?” Clarke barked out and Bellamy took a step towards her. “ _Who_ are you talking about?”

“No idea, he never said. But they came to him after he left the Ark and they said—well, he never said exactly but it sounded like he wasn’t given much of a choice.”

“Does—” Clarke faltered. “Does Wells know about that?”

“Fuck, no!” Charlotte let out. “He’d have a fit if he did. Whoever those people are, they never come over there.” She said and Bellamy saw Clarke turning over to him.

“We really need to find Dax.” She told him and Bellamy nodded in agreement.

“Why did you come back?” Bellamy asked Charlotte when they were leaving her apartment. She sighed before answering.

“After it happened, I went to hide at my grandmother’s. I haven’t seen her in years so she was pretty surprised and a little suspicious but she took me in. I never told her anything but she could see that something was wrong. I was restless and she told me that it won’t change until I do something about whatever it is that’s weighing on my conscience. So I came back to tell someone about what happened.

“John was my friend, he stayed in touch after he left the Ark. Maybe he was stupid for getting involved in this shit but whatever happened, he deserved better. Wells always tells us that we deserve more than the bad shit that’s coming our way.” Charlotte stood a little straighter now, proud of herself for finding the courage to do the right thing and Bellamy felt the respect for Wells Jaha growing inside him. It would appear that he actually has some influence on his Arkers.

 

***

 

The drive back to Bellamy’s precinct was uncharacteristically quiet. He’d gotten used to Clarke yelling at drivers around her, not caring at all that they couldn’t hear her. She was quiet now, though and Bellamy was about to say something to her but he heard the very distinctive sound of metal hitting more metal and he felt his body being jolted violently to the left.

 

***

 

Clarke gasped as something hit her car, pushing them off the empty street and onto the pavement on the other side of it. The stopped moving when the wheels caught on the cracked paving slabs. She felt her vision darkening, her head spinning as she tried to figure out what happened. She prodded at the side of her head where it hit the window, feeling for a bump. She figured someone must’ve run them off the road but she didn’t get the chance to think about it anymore because there was a pained groan coming from the man to her right.

“Bellamy!” she called out to him, breathless. Her hands were shaking as she unfastened her seat belt and turned towards him. She was about to grab his shoulder when the door on her side of the car opened and right there next to her was Dax, looking a little dishevelled. Like someone who’d just taken part in a car accident.

Dax pulled out a gun from his jacket pocket and Clarke froze in place.

“Get out!” he barked at her and then grabbed her arm and yanked her out of the car. He pushed her down on the pavement and Clarke could feel her skin cracking in places that scraped the ground.

“Who else knows?” Dax asked her, the gun pointed straight at her head and Clarke wondered if it were wise to engage him. The hand holding a gun was shaking slightly but there was a very determined glint his eyes that scared her even more than she already was. “Who else knows that you came here today?”

“No one!” Clarke squeaked, probably a little too quickly because Dax cocked his head to the side and probed further.

“You haven’t told anyone? Not even your boss? Who told you she was back?”

“No one told us, we just came by to ask her some additional questions. We didn’t even know that she was gone.” Clarke really hoped that he wouldn’t realise that she was lying through her teeth. “No one told us and we didn’t tell anyone, either. We only came went to her because we’re grasping at straws.”

“Bullshit!” Dax snarled, taking a step closer to her and Clarke scrambled to get away but he waved the gun a little and she stopped. “I _know_ you were still looking into this, looking for the killer. I know you were looking for me!” He shouted and all of Clarke’s hope of convincing him that Charlotte never identified him died inside her.

She glanced over at her car to see if Bellamy was awake but he was nowhere to be seen. She quickly averted her eyes, trying to school her features and not alert Dax but when she looked back at him, she realised that there was no need for that. He was so focused on her that a plane could land behind him and he probably wouldn’t notice. She could only hope that someone saw the crash and cared enough to call 911.

“I have to know if anyone else knows about me! I have to! Shumway said ‘no witnesses’.” He kept on talking, the anger in his voice mixing with fear and Clarke grew even more worried. If he was afraid, the possibility of him doing something stupid, like _shooting her_ , was all that bigger.

Clarke wondered where the hell was Bellamy and if he was okay. The hit they took wasn’t hard enough to kill them, obviously, and she didn’t see any substantial blood loss but then again, she only had a few seconds to look at him. There could be internal damage or… No, no, he was fine. He _had to_ be fine.

She focused on Dax, instead, trying to figure out a way to talk him off the ledge. At first, she didn’t even notice when Bellamy sneaked behind him, not until he pointed his own gun at Dax’s head.

“Drop the gun.” Bellamy said calmly and glanced over at Clarke, sending her a questioning look. She nodded back at him, letting him know she was okay.

Dax faltered a little, fear overtaking his face, his grip on the gun tightening.

“If you shoot her, you won’t get out of here alive.” Bellamy warned him. His voice was dangerously low, his eyes hard and trained on the back of Dax’s head. “So don’t do anything stupid and drop. The gun. Down.”

For the longest second in Clarke’s life, the three of them were caught in a stalemate until she heard a police siren wailing in the distance and saw that Dax’s shoulders slumped significantly. He took a deep breath and dropped the gun to the ground. Bellamy relaxed a little, too but he held his gun trained on Dax until a squad car appear and Miller jumped out of the passenger’s seat. He pulled the handcuffs out of his pocket as he came closer to Bellamy and Miller looked at his partner, assessing.

“You okay, man?” He asked, putting the cuffs on Dax. Bellamy nodded at him and put his gun away. Miller read Dax his rights and Bellamy turned to Clarke.

She was still on the ground, half sitting, half crouching. She really wanted to get up but her body refused to move. She was taking deep breaths, looking down at her hands, planted firmly on the pavement. She felt Bellamy crouching in front of her, resting his hand on her shoulder.

“Clarke, are you okay?” He asked her and Clarke looked at his face, smiling faintly in confirmation. He got up and outstretched his hand towards her. Clarke took it and heard him wince a little as he helped her up.

“You need to go to a hospital, Bellamy.”

“I think we both do.”

 

***

 

Dax’s interrogation lead them nowhere. He knew there was no point in denying his involvement in John Mbege’s death, not after practically confessing to the Assistant District Attorney but he didn’t reveal any more details either. All he said was that he and John knew each other from around, they had a disagreement and John ended up dead. It was all he said before he demanded to speak to his lawyer and they were forced to leave him alone.

Bellamy watched Miller leave the interrogation room, his jaw clenched shut as he sent him and Clarke a frustrated look. The DA decided that it would probably be better if neither of them were interrogating, not if they were about to testify as witnesses and victims of a crime.

“We’re not getting anything more from him. As soon as his lawyer shows up, he’s gonna shut up and that will be it.” Bellamy grumbled and he grit his teeth.

“At least we got him.” Clarke said, trying to sound reassuring. Bellamy nodded at her in acknowledgement. “He still didn’t say anything about Shumway, right? Did you find anything about them?”

“No.” Bellamy said with a sigh. “Just in the New York metropolitan area, we found over 500 people with that first or last name, both men and women and that's not counting those who are too young or too old to be involved in this. Not to mention that it might be a nickname.” He rubbed his face. “There’s even a retired cop on that list, off the force for ten years. Unless Dax gives us more, this is a dead end and Captain Pike told us to move on.”

Clarke took a breath and a grimace bloomed on her face.

"I really hate this, you know? We got him, sure, but it's so frustrating, not really knowing the truth. There are still so many questions and he’s not telling us anything more.” Clarke said looking straight at Dax, who was sitting by the desk, looking strangely relaxed for someone accused of murder. She narrowed her eyes at him, like she was thinking something through. She cocked her head to the side. “He thinks he’s getting out of this one.” She said incredulously and let out a chuckle. “That’s why he’s not saying anything. He _actually_ believes that whoever protected him in the past is gonna do it again.”

“Well, he isn’t.” Bellamy assured her. “Mbege’s murder – with the evidence we have, that one is still in the air but he rammed us off the road and held a gun on you.” Bellamy cleared his throat, trying not to get angry, trying not to remember how fucking scared he was when he saw Dax standing over Clarke who was cowering away from him, all curled up in herself, trying to make herself as small as possible.

A part of him wanted to just throw himself between them but instead he crawled out of the car through the door in the driver’s side and called Miller for support. He took out his gun, cocked it, just in case, and then sneaked up to them, hoping Dax wouldn’t see him too early. And later he realised that he was pretty much holding his breath this entire time and didn’t release it until they were both sitting in the backseat of a squad car, on their way to the hospital.

He was sore all over, his ribs and right arm hurt like hell but when Clarke rested her head gently on his shoulder, he didn’t care about any of that. All that mattered was that she was safe.

“He tried to kill a police officer and an Assistant District Attorney. He’s going down for that, Clarke.” Bellamy said and Clarke sent him half a smile and turned away from the glass, looking at him. Bellamy thought she was gonna say something but she stayed silent for a moment, just watching him, until an officer came in to tell them that Dax’s lawyer had shown up and she averted her eyes, watching as Miller went back into the interrogation room to battle the suit that just came in with him.

 

***

 

Bellamy hadn’t spoken to Clarke since Dax’s arraignment. His lawyer advised him to keep quiet and Dax clammed up. He refused to share any details about his crime and pleaded not guilty when the charges were read to him. Bellamy knew they didn’t have strong evidence in the murder case so the DA office was working their asses off, preparing the case for the preliminary hearing.

That was almost a week ago and he hadn’t heard a single word from Clarke, nothing after she told him she needed to talk to Wells about something important and all but dropped from the face of the Earth.

Five days had passed since that moment and now she was standing in front of his precinct, leaning against a huge Range Rover. She was looking straight at him, a small smile on her face as he came up to her.

“Nice car,” he said to her with a smirk. “You couldn’t find anything less conspicuous? A tank, maybe?” he joked and Clarke sent him an unimpressed look.

“The judge set up the date for Dax’s trial.” She told him.

“Yeah, I know. The DA called to tell me when we’ll be testifying.” Bellamy said. “Look, Clarke—”

“I thought you were unconscious in that car,” she interrupted him, a little sharply. “I thought you were hurt and I couldn’t even check. And then you left the car and I couldn’t even see you. I was scared out of my ass.”

“Yeah, I know, me too,” he said and his eyes automatically traveller to her clavicle, where the seatbelt left a long bruise that has now turned purple-green. He knew she had one on her thigh, too, where her leg hit the door and the almost-healed scrapes on her knees and calves from when Dax shoved her on the pavement. He might've been the one who took the brunt of the hit – bruised ribs and about a dozen cuts from the glass from his broken window, but her injuries worried and angered him more. Bellamy refused to even think how he'd feel, what he'd _do_ , if anything worse happened to her.

“I knew you were _alive_ but for a moment, I still thought I lost you,” Clarke’s voice was low and quiet, and she was looking at her hands. She took a deep breath before she continued. “You know, after Lexa left, I was devastated. We were fighting all the time and deep down, I knew this thing between us could never work, not when we couldn’t agree on the most basic things but still, it broke me. She moved to D.C. and I ran, almost 300 miles away from her, just so that we wouldn’t bump into each other.” She was talking more quickly now, like she was trying to get it all out of her before she lost her courage.

“It was back then, when I decided to keep my distance from people at work.” She sighed, ever so slightly. “I’m good at my job, I really am but people—that’s a whole different thing. I only have a handful of good relationships in my life, everything else blew up in my face, so I figure, if I keep my distance, I won’t have to run away again when it all goes to shit.” Clarke paused for a moment and let out an exasperated laugh. “Fuck, I’m bad at this.”

“At what?” Bellamy asked a little dumbly. He had no idea where she was going with it, so he just looked at her, confused.

“Telling people how I feel.” Clarke answered, shrugging lightly, and a blush creep up her face. She looked a little embarrassed and absolutely beautiful but Bellamy wasn’t quite able to appreciate it because his brain short-circuited and was currently in a process of rebooting. Did she really just say what he thought she said? Was she actually trying to _confess_ something? He felt his eyes growing a little bigger, his jaw dropping ever so slightly and suddenly, he saw himself at thirteen, when a girl he had a crush on invited him to a Sally Hawkins Dance. He froze back then and twenty years later, he still didn't know how to react.

Clarke, however, seemed completely unfazed by his lack of reaction, probably because she was too focused on getting through with what she had to say.

"You know, I really didn't like you at first." She continued and she moved her gaze from her hands to his shoulder. "I thought you were an asshole who's angry at the whole world and always has to have the last word."

"And now?" Bellamy asked and he had to resist the urge to face-palm at the sound of his own voice—rusted, like he hadn't used it in a long time. He cleared his throat. _Smooth_ , Blake.

"Now I got to know you better, especially over the last few months, and I _know_ you're an asshole who's angry at the whole world and always has to have the last word." She told him, laughing a little nervously which Bellamy though was ridiculously adorable because apparently, that's how into this woman he was. Even more surprisingly, that realisation didn't freak him out as much as he thought it should have. He smiled back at her, hoping she'd keep going.

She took a few steps towards him until there was only a couple feet between them.

"You're also caring and loyal, and you make me feel safer than I have in a long, long time." Her voice was soft and so absolutely sincere that Bellamy felt his face grow hot from the blush that now undoubtedly coloured his features; he was not good with compliments. Clarke reached out to grab his hand and he squeezed hers until he felt her fingers readjust in his grasp and she squeezed back.

"I like you, Bellamy, and it scares the living daylight out of me. But I talked to Wells and he told me, once he finished laughing at me because apparently I sounded like a character from a high school teen drama, to get my head out of my ass and think about what I want." She said, looking at him with hope and a little uncertainty in her eyes, and he decided that it could be a good moment for him to say something.

"And what did you decide?" Bellamy asked her and he was really proud of how voice managed to not sound like he was still waiting for his balls to drop.

Clarke smiled at him, closed the gap between them and rose on her tiptoes to press her lips gently against his.

"That you're worth every risk." She said once she was flat on her feet again. Bellamy smiled at her widely and she let out a happy gasp when he tugged her in for another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> there is more coming. soon, i hope ;-)
> 
> i hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i liked writing it. i'd love to hear what you think.  
> and come visit me on tumblr ([carrieeve](http://carrieeve.tumblr.com)), i wanna cry with you over fictional characters.


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